


The Final Rewind

by TinaMuller



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Complete, Everyone Is Alive, F/F, Max fixes everything, One more time-travel, life is strange au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 15:35:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12962553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinaMuller/pseuds/TinaMuller
Summary: After travelling back to the bathroom, Max is wondering whether things really turned out the way they were supposed to be. Maybe there is one more chance to travel back...and perhaps fix everything?Contains mentions of Amberprice and a slight implication for Stephfield.





	The Final Rewind

 Disclaimer: I do not own Life Is Strange. If I did, Amberprice would totally be the endgame.

* * *

 

_“Look! This is it! This is it! Are you going to help me, Max?” “Chloe, stop! Look!” “Please, no…” “That smell.” “Rachel...Oh, Rachel, no, no! Please, not her!” “Chloe…” “Rachel...why?” “I’m sorry, Chloe. I’m so sorry…” “I loved her so much…How can she be dead? What kind of world does this? Who does this?”_

* * *

 

 

“Shit.” Max opened her eyes, panting for air. This dream had plagued her ever since she turned back the time and allowed Nathan to shoot Chloe in that bathroom. In a way, it was just as bad as her time in the Dark Room. This had hit the hardest, and Chloe wailing “I loved her so much” made her finally understand. She and Rachel had been more than friends, a lot more than friends. And when they had stood by the lighthouse on the cliff, Chloe holding out that photo for her, this motivated her the most. Turning back the time would mean that Chloe would forget her - the way Max had forgotten her - but she would also forget the truth about Rachel.

 

Everyone had been exceptionally kind to Max after what happened, even the Vortex Club members had stopped harassing her. But she knew that her coursework was currently not up to par. “What I wouldn’t do to undo all of that…” she whispered, unhappily. Poor Joyce had to take a break from work, David was blaming himself for not stopping Nathan sooner… She reached for her desk, grabbing the Polaroid photo of a butterfly on a bucket, sighing. The tornado had happened because of her actions - nothing good would ever come from dwelling on that. Perhaps, she would talk about it in the therapy session tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

“Well, I had this...this really strange dream last night.” Truth be told, Max had stayed up all night; Chloe’s cries in her ears, thinking of how she could say that. “Go on, Max”, her therapist encouraged her. He was a surprisingly nice doctor; and his fee was paid by Blackwell for her. “I was...back in the bathroom, but this time I wasn’t frozen in fear. I grabbed a hammer and started the fire alert. Chloe...she survived.” Doctor Martinson didn’t push her to continue; instead he waited for Max to continue. “We reconnected and had a good time.”

 

Memories flashed in her head: memories of a timeline that had never happened - Chloe saving her from Nathan, midnight swimming, Max’ first kiss. She spared both herself and her therapist the mention of Rachel. “But it didn’t last. Five days and everything ended in a tornado that razed Arcadia Bay to the ground.” “This is a difficult one, Max. You told me you haven’t talked much to your friend after you moved to Seattle. Do you think that she was as happy as you were?”

 

Probably not. Deep inside, Max knew that Rachel had always been on her best friend’s mind. Her real dream from last night seeped back in her head. “No, I don’t think so. She...missed another person terribly.” An awful thought indeed. The way she had cried in anguish...and that one time at night, when Chloe had whispered in her sleep “No, please, Rachel, don’t leave me…” Most of all, their discussion at the lighthouse, when the storm was about to hit; how Chloe thought of her even in that moment.

 

Adjusting his glasses, Doctor Martinson smiled kindly at his patient. “I am not an expert on dreams, Max, but some colleagues of mine are sure that they are important messages from your sub-consciousness. Perhaps, this...storm, you saw, was a warning.” Warning indeed… “Perhaps you should understand that this week was great for you, but not so great for your friend, that she would never be happy without that significant other at her side: Therefore the storm, the destruction, so you would see that this would not end well; that this kind of happiness would not last.”

 

Max gave him a weird look, she was totally confused. This tornado was not a symbol of her time-travelling mess, but rather there to remind here that her efforts were fruitless like that? That all she could ever do in that timeline was adding to her own happiness, not to Chloe’s? It might not be too out there, she had the first glimpse of the tornado before she entered the bathroom. “Thank you.” With that said, they moved on to talk about Max’ schedule and her anxiety whenever she entered any bathroom at Blackwell Academy.

 

* * *

 

 

It was so obvious. All the time, the real clue to the problem had been there, the solution to the problem already presented to her. But of course, she hadn’t seen it: Rachel Amber, the one person Chloe loved the most. The alternate universe should have been her final clue: A world in which Chloe’s and Rachel’s paths never crossed; a world that had left her best friend absolutely friendless. William had never been the person in Chloe’s life Max should have saved. But this needed preparation; this would be far more difficult than throwing the car keys out of the window.

 

Ditching school - not that Wells cared about it, she had basically a pass for this semester - Max made it her personal goal to collect as much info as she could about Rachel and Mark Jefferson. Printing article after article, she finally found what she was looking for. Over a year ago, before Rachel started her last semester at Blackwell, he had committed a murder in New Haven, Maine, where he worked before. This was the last information she needed - he would get busted there, going to jail, never coming to Arcadia Bay.

 

Moving through her picture book with shaky hands, she found the one picture she was looking for. It had been prom night and while she hadn’t gone there, Max had taken a selfie with the advertisements. It was one and a half year back, and her hands shook like crazy. “Please...let it work…” She hadn’t even tried to use her powers after she went back to the start, but by the way her brain went into overdrive, it worked.

 

* * *

 

“Oh my god.” Max stood in the main library of the Washington State university, where she took the picture. Thank dog there were computers here. Quickly sitting down, she set up an anonymous Gmail account and searched the official side of the New Haven police department.

 

_Good evening._

_As of now, I cannot tell you who I am, fearing for my life. But I can name the murderer of Betty Flynn. She was killed by the photographer Mark Jefferson, who is currently teaching at New Haven College. He met her at an art gallery, kidnapped, photographed and killed her. The pictures are on his laptop and also in a folder in his bedroom._

_Please, hurry and arrest him. He is dangerous._

 

Her heart shook like crazy when she clicked on “Send”. Hopefully it would be enough. The other mail she was going to send was less dangerous in general, but a whole lot more difficult on a personal base.

 

_Hello Rachel,_

_We have not met in person yet, but you will likely recognize my name. I am Maxine “Max” Caulfield - yes, the Max that ignored Chloe for ages._

_I know that you have no reason to trust me, but believe me on this - please, stay away from Chloe’s acquaintance Frank Bowers. He’s going to try and get you hooked up on drugs - and I don’t mean weed._

_It will take months before we meet in person, but I beg you to trust me this once._

_Max_

 

She hit “Send” again, sighing deeply. Contacting Chloe would not do any good. All she could do now was wait and hope. Closing her eyes, she felt a familiar sense of vertigo coming up.

 

* * *

 

Opening her eyes again, she was back in her dormitory room at Blackwell. The room looked similar enough; even Lisa was in the corner. “Oh dog, what have I changed this time?” she murmured, booting her pc. At least her clothes looked still the same, which was a relief to say. Quickly loading up Google, she typed in Mark Jefferson.

 

The police had obviously taken her mail very seriously, judging from the impressive number of articles. Randomly, she clicked on one.

 

_Photographer Mark Jefferson has been sent to jail for the murder of the disappeared student Betty Flynn last night._

_In early May, the disappearance of Betty has shocked many people all over the county, no trace of her was found. “We received an anonymous email that led us on Jefferson’s trail. The details were very accurate, so we searched his flat the same night. I don’t know who sent us this, but I thank him or her from the bottom of my heart.”_

 

There weren’t many details, but Max started sobbing. He was in jail, he was locked away. His deeds would never be the reason for Rachel’s and Chloe’s deaths. Picking up her phone, she looked through her messages.

 

It seemed that she had successfully reconnected with Chloe, who had moved to LA with Rachel in the meantime. Looking at the last messages made her smile.

 

_Maximus Prime, I know you’re spending Christmas in the Bay of Hell. Rachel and I are hitting the road to spend Christmas with my mom and David. Why don’t you come over, too?_

_Sounds perfect!_ ^o^

_ NO EMOJI_

 

Leaning back in her chair, she took a deep breath. They were alive. They were happy. They left Arcadia Bay. Staring at her phone, she noticed that she seemed to be on friendly terms with Rachel was well, but probably weird ones, judging from the mail she had sent the Cali girl. She quickly typed Chloe _When will you guys be in town? ;)_

 

Grabbing her trusty journal, she scanned the pages for any hints. It seemed that she was friends with Kate, Warren, Brook and their sci-fy friends. Even Victoria seemed to at least tolerate her presence, seemingly afraid of Max telling both Chloe and Rachel if she bullied the short brunette girl. Chloe was working in a tattoo studio and Rachel had gotten casted for a fantasy TV series. Max was actually a better than average student, with a score of 3.1.

 

Her phone vibrated and she picked it up to see that Rachel had messaged her back.

_Chloe’s driving at the moment. We will be back in the Bay of Doom around midnight. See you for dinner tomorrow?_

_Yes, sounds good :)_

_Chloe says “NO EMOJI” ;)_

 

Leaning back in bed, she looked at her photos - there was one with all three of them, Rachel and Chloe holding each other a lot closer than what the general society would consider acceptable, and with the other hand, the blue haired woman ruffled Max’ hair. This Chloe looked so much happier than in the other timelines, in fact she reminded Max of the old Chloe that loved to play pirates with her.

 

* * *

 

 

Leaving the bus, Max made her way over to the Price/Madsen home. School had been uneventful. It seemed she was a lot better at concentrating in class than she used to. She was also friends with Dana and Taylor, two of the nicer Vortex Club members, who sat with her during lunch break. This meeting would be the most surreal one, though.

 

Ringing the bell, David opened the door and smiled at her - he had been seeing a PTSD therapist called Doctor Martinson for over six months now and his relationship with Chloe and her girlfriend had improved a lot due to that. “Max”, he greeted her friendly, “Chloe already said that we should expect you! Come in, it’s cold.” The house had a bit better furniture than she remembered; perhaps Chloe and Rachel sent some money here.

 

“Joyce! It’s great to see you!” Max said and after a moment of hesitation hugged her. The waitress looked relaxed and happy, an absolute contrast to the broken woman from Chloe’s funeral. “Maximator! There you are!” Chloe and Rachel had stopped cuddling on the sofa to greet her. Part of her really wanted to cry, but sobbing “Oh my god, it’s you! You are alive!” and then burst into tears would be totally weird.

 

She somehow made it through the evening with small talk. Or rather, encouraging Chloe and Rachel to talk about LA, something both of them enjoyed. “And one time when we sat at the Santa Monica pier at 3 am, some blonde guy actually sat down next to us. He looked at Chloe and murmured ‘I like your eyes.’ So I got up, looked at him and told him that she’s with me and he’d better shut the fuck up unless he wants to be in hella trouble.” Max rolled her eyes, Chloe seemed to enjoy Rachel’s jealousy, or at least appreciated it a lot.

 

* * *

 

“Would you two mind walking me back to Blackwell? I know its cold here, but I would like to catch a bit of fresh air.” Exchanging confused looks, both agreed to walk with her and for “some moonlight kissing at the beach later” as Chloe put it. Together, they made their way down the road, Rachel and Chloe holding hands and Max walking next to Chloe. “So, Mad Max. What is wrong?” Chloe asked. Always the direct approach, of course.

 

“I don’t know where to start. Rachel, in the late spring 2012, I’ve sent you a mail, do you remember?” The blonde nodded. “Of course. It was the most confusing piece of literature I’ve ever read. But I followed your advice. I think I tried to talk to you about it once or twice after you returned, but you were always so confused.” It seemed that Rachel had trusted Chloe with the mail, because the blue haired woman seemed totally unfazed by the information. “I was confused because at this time, I didn’t remember the mail. Did you two ever watch the movie Total Recall?”

 

Rachel frowned but nodded. “Yeah, I think we did watch it last year. We wanted some time alone and it was the only movie available at the cinema.” “It feels like this. I feel as if I’d lived two lives instead of one, and just now the paths intertwined again.” “That sound hella weird, Minimax.” She rolled her eyes at the nicknames, but at the same time she felt elated. Chloe was here after all, even if she kept making dumb jokes.

 

“Have you heard of Mark Jefferson? He got imprisoned in Maine last year.” “Erm...yeah, David watched the news. He told me that this douche was supposed to come to Blackwell”, Chloe told them and Rachel looked at her. “You never told me. I am glad I never met him.” Max started coughing for a moment. “Well, in another life you met him. He continued his...photography of drugged girls here, with Nathan Prescott as his apprentice. And Nathan...he was so angry he never got a chance with you, Rachel, he kidnapped you, overdosed you and killed you.”

 

There was seemingly no sound in Arcadia Bay at that moment, besides their footsteps on the sidewalk. “Max, that’s…” Rachel started, shaking her head. Maybe Max was psychic. After all, she had warned her of Frank Bowers, months before he approached her. She had heard that some people could see glimpses of the future, and possibly Max belonged with them. “You try to find out what happened to Rachel and Nathan kills you as well”, Max tells Chloe who shook her head as well. “I think you should try and take fewer drugs, MegaMax. Or perhaps more.” “But how could I have written that mail? How could I have told the police about Jefferson? It’s totally cereal.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Max? I want to know whether you want to spend the night on the couch or I should drive you back to Blackwell”, Chloe said. “Damn, Maxis, you seemed to totally black out for a moment.” Rachel rolled her eyes at her girlfriend antics. “I think you look almost sick. You should stay”, she suggested and David nodded. “I’ll take you with me tomorrow when I drive to Blackwell.” Max grabbed a glass and shook her head. She had dozed off after dessert, dreaming. If there was one thing she was sure about, it would be totally staying quiet about time travelling - for ever. The couch was more comfortable as she had ever imagined. Minutes later, she was out cold.

 

* * *

 

 

The rest was history. Her powers were gone, and no tornado ever hit Arcadia Bay. A year later, she graduated from Blackwell Academy, moving back to Seattle for a while. But she would meet a woman named Steph Gingrich at Chloe’s and Rachel’s high-profile Hollywood wedding - they would spend the evening chatting and bonding over table top games and which movies were the best. Half a year later, the two of them would move to LA together, Max as a professional photographer for a sports magazine, Steph as the stage manager for a theatre. After all she had seen - Rachel in the darkroom, Chloe being shot, Kate attempting to jump, being kidnapped - life was finally good for Max Caulfield.

 


End file.
